The Traitor's Revenge (Wallis Jones Series 2016)

by Martha Carr

  Father Donald smiled as he watched Richard Bach carrying on nearby. “They’re not going to stop until they have that drive in their hands or are pretty convinced it’s been destroyed. That brings me to my big question. Given how you feel about being involved in all of this, why haven’t you just destroyed the thing? Could it be that your grandfather’s legacy is a little harder to shake than you imagined?”

  “If you mean common decency was his legacy, then yes. There are thousands of children’s names on there, including my son’s and they need to be protected. I suppose just destroying the drive would do that for the short term. But after what I saw buried underneath all of that I realized that there are thousands of other innocent people out there who are in harm’s way because of Management and maybe there is something I can do after all. The problem is figuring out just what that is without getting anyone in my family harmed and still being able to go back to a semblance of the life that I’ve had.”

  “Any ideas at all?” asked Father Donald.

  “I showed it all to Tom and I suppose that’s doing something. Maybe he has a better idea of what to do with the information than I do. There’s one thought but I’m not sure how effective it would be,” said Norman, hesitating.

  “And that would be?”

  “Helmut Khroll. Give him the information and let him leak it in whatever way he sees fit,” said Norman.

  “That may get in the way of some Circle plans that are in motion. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I realize that but I’ve never been a big fan of letting human beings do all of the manipulating. Why not set some of the information loose and let the cards fall where they may.”

  “Now, you see that’s really your family’s legacy,” said Father Donald. “Looks like all of the candidates have gotten here. Look there’s Matheny. Heard he wants to run for governor.”

  “Where is Khroll?” asked Norman, looking toward the parking lot. “I thought he’d be here with you.”

  “He’s here. I saw him talking to a group over there about their votes in the state senate. He’s going to get himself banned but I suppose he wouldn’t be doing his particular style of journalism if he wasn’t by the end of the day,” said Father Donald. “He may have gone back to the car for something, check there. If you can’t find him, let me know. There are more than a few people here who know him by reputation at the least and don’t care for him. Any other year and I’d say that he’d only be risking a good bruising but I don’t know.”

  “I’ll let you know,” said Norman. “You hang onto this for me?” he asked, handing Father Donald his glass. “I’ll be back in time for some fish and a few handshakes. Might try focusing on more normal reasons to be here. Has to be at least a few nervous business owners who could use a good lawyer.”

  “Hurry back, you don’t want to miss the main speaker. It’s Senator Stanford this year, one of my own,” said Father Donald, smiling. “Good Episcopalian.”

  Norman walked back toward the parking lot and scanned the line of port-a-johns but didn’t see Helmut. He ducked back into the line of trees to see if Helmut was anywhere to be seen. The fallen leaves crunched under his boots as he wove in between the large stand of walnuts and the pines that could be found everywhere. He could smell the hickory planks over the fire from where he was and it brought back memories of a better time. He stopped walking and breathed in the scent, shutting his eyes for just a moment. He remembered the first time his father brought him and his brothers to the shad planking. Norman was only thirteen and Tom and Harry kept telling him that he had better be cool so they could come back the next year.

  Norman had felt like he was being let into some kind of club. He had spent the entire day not saying much of anything and just watching all of the men he regularly saw at church or hanging out in his house laughing and carrying on in ways he’d never imagined they even knew about. Mr. Palmeroy had given him one of his cigars and the men had laughed and slapped his back when he breathed in too deeply and started gagging. Tom held the flaps of his coat back when he puked into the leaves. Harry had complained, saying Norman was such a kid, even though they were only separated by a few years.

  Norman stood there breathing in the familiar scents, trying to remember the sound of his father’s voice when he was distracted by a heated conversation going on in hushed tones deeper in the woods. Something about the voices seemed familiar. He opened his eyes and slowly looked around trying not to shift his weight and crunch any of the leaves. Suddenly, he felt exposed in the thin part of the clearing where he stood.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” asked a man, a little distance from Norman.

  “I came to see my brother,” said the other man. “I need to make sure he’s alright and this is the one place where I knew I could see him without being detected.”

  “You had better be damn sure of that.”

  It was Richard Bach, Norman was sure of that and he was talking to someone who was supposed to be over eight hundred miles away looking after senior citizens. Norman risked being heard and walker closer to the men, stopping behind a large oak that had several large sucker trees growing off of the base giving him some cover.

  He was able to just make them out and when he saw the older man standing next to Richard Bach he doubled over and placed his hand against the tree to steady himself but he never took his eyes off his older brother, Harry for a moment.

  “Things have gone too far for you to suddenly have any ideas about just going home,” said Richard.

  “I fully realize that. I’m not a simpleton. But I never expected things to get back to my own family. I received assurances that this would never happen,” said Harry. “You gave many of those assurances yourself and now, you’ve managed to threaten my brother and his family.”

  “That wasn’t me,” said Richard, bending toward Harry till he was only inches from his face. “I did not have anything to do with what that idiot deputy has been up to.”

  “He’s under your command,” said Harry, who didn’t even flinch.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Richard, backing up and waving away the concern. “I’ve taken care of it.”

  “More violence,” said Harry, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “No, no violence. A little justice, maybe,” said Richard, looking annoyed. “Look, get the hell out of here. If anyone sees you, and I mean anyone including Robin Spingler then more hell will be set loose. You’re supposed to be back in Florida, anyway where everyone can see you going about your normal routine. That’s what you said you wanted, isn’t it? A chance at a normal life with no one bothering you? How are we supposed to deliver on that if you come up here right in the middle of the mess?” said Richard.

  “No one was supposed to die,” said Harry.

  “Yeah, well, next time don’t dangle such a large carrot in front of our noses without having the goods already in your hands. Look, you gave us Schaefer’s name and we went to get the drive. Things got a little more complicated from there.”

  “You murdered her,” said Harry, the anger rising in his hushed voice.

  “She didn’t give us a lot of options.”

  “And you let the damn thing slipped out of your hands before you even saw what was on it,” said Harry.

  Richard let out a low growl and kicked the nearest tree. “None of the Georgia operation was in my control! You know what I’ve never understood? Why you don’t know what was on it. You claim you were pretty high up in the organization and yet you can’t give us anything beyond the name of a woman you claim held the secret to the Circle’s grand plan and then some guy in a utility department that took the drive from her. I’ve never really bought any of that.”

  “I’ve told everyone already a thousand times. The Circle is broken up into hundreds of individual cells and only one person knows who is in all of the cells. They keep that name a secret from everyone but the previous successor. That woman was the most likely candidate but your thugs kille
d her and then let the drive she always had with her slip away. If it wasn’t for me following her, you would never have known it was in Richmond in the first place.” Harry sounded like he was whining.

  Norman realized what his brother had done and he leaned his head against the tree willing himself to not wretch in the woods. He was the center of their solution. The pest that could bring down an entire organization. Norman’s head was spinning as he listened to Harry pleading his case with Richard Bach about all that he had missed in this life because he was saddled with a lifetime membership in the Circle. No wife, no family and always having to look over his shoulder.

  “Coward,” Norman whispered, swallowing the bile in his throat. His foot slipped on a wet leaf and he caught himself just in time, making only the slightest of noise. But Richard Bach was on edge and heard the sound, turning in Norman’s direction as he hid behind the wide oak, his chest heaving from the mix of anger and grief.

  “Enough! Enough of your whining,” said Richard, throwing up his hands. “I can’t keep doing this. If you want out, then do it. Tell Spingler you want out and see how she handles it. I’m done with you,” he said. He strode off toward the revelers breaking small saplings as he tore through the woods. Norman could hear Harry’s muffled crying but he felt no compassion for his brother.

  He stepped out from the stand of trees.

  “You could have come to me,” he said, quietly. Harry’s face jerked up and he quickly wiped his faced on his sleeve. “You never even tried.”

  “Norman!”

  “You aren’t a stupid man, Harry. You had to know what they would do with the information you were turning over.”

  Harry took a couple of steps backward, his body shaking. “It was better than going through my entire life trapped in that day to day boredom.”

  “So your dissatisfaction was worth a few lives? Were you always such a coward?”

  Harry reeled back like he had been slapped. He made a gurgling noise as if he was starting to choke.

  “Your stupidity almost got my wife killed. My neighbor, a nice old man was found dead in a field. He had nothing to do with any of this. Was his life worth it? And that woman you offered up, did you even know her?”

  “Carol Schaeffer. Yeah, yeah, I knew her. She was in my cell. She never really liked me,” said Harry.

  “Is that still what’s important to you, even now?”

  “I told her what I was going through and she said I should get a hobby. A hobby! So imperial and acting like she had it all. I knew she had to be the Keeper,” he cried out, snot from his nose running down into his mouth. He had turned his shoulder to Norman, cowering as if he was trying to protect himself from a body blow.

  “Who’s out there?” It was Robin Spingler moving through the woods with a couple of men from Management.

  Harry looked back and forth between Norman and the sounds of the approaching people. He ran closer to Norman grabbing his arms tightly and quickly sputtered, “They’re watching your house around the clock. They’re planning something to happen tonight. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “They know Wallis has the thumb drive.”

  Norman saw all of the pain in his brother’s face and how tortured he was but the image of Mr. Blazney greeting everyone as he walked his dog flashed in his head. He jerked his arms away and turned his back working his way back to the field. Let them have him, he thought bitterly. Let them do what they want with him. He turned his back and quickly trudged out of the woods.

  He found Father Donald and said, “I’m going to need another drink.”

  “What’s wrong? Helmut came back a few minutes ago and said he never saw you. You look like what I’ve always imagined hell would be like,” said Father Donald. Norman pulled him away from the small clusters of people to the edge of the party.

  “I know who betrayed us. I saw him in the woods. It was Harry,” he said, his hands trembling as he tried not to cry. He took the drink from Father Donald and drank it down quickly, pressing his eyes shut for a moment as he felt the slow burn down the back of his throat.

  “He thought he could break apart the Circle and find a new life for himself. He gave them Carol Schaeffer because he thought she slighted him. It was a calculated guess that she was the Keeper. He is just as responsible for killing her as if he had held her under the water.”

  “You need to get a hold of yourself,” said Father Donald, firmly grasping Norman’s arm. “If that means you need to leave early then I suggest you do it. Go home and tell Tom you’ve seen Harry in the area.”

  “Wallis almost died,” he said, “Harry did that.”

  “Go home,” said Father Donald.

  “No,” said Norman. “My brother started all of this and he’s managed to hurt a lot of people. I can’t stay on the sidelines anymore. I’m going to try and make some of it right if I can. Where is Helmut Khroll? I’m going to tell him what I know about Management.”

  “That’s a very dangerous game, Norman,” said Father Donald, “and is it really all that different from what Harry was trying to do?” he said gently.

  “Harry was trying to save his own pathetic ass. I was more like him when I was trying to do nothing and ignore that any of this was going on right outside my door.”

  “Hey, you don’t look so good,” said Helmut, walking up. “People are starting to notice.”

  “Take him home, Helmut,” said Father Donald. “That’s what you want, isn’t it Norman? There’s your cover.”

  “Sure, sure, I wasn’t really making any headway with any of these guys anyway,” said Helmut. “No one would give me anything.”

  “My friend, that is about to change. Drive Norman home to Wallis.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mark got up early to scan the internet again for the sites Circle operatives were known to use most. He was searching for Robert. Later in the day, he was planning on heading out to the shad planking to at least make an appearance. His neighbor was coming over to watch his children.

  The boys were already up and doing their chores. The youngest, Peter was fussing about getting stuck with trash duty two weeks in a row. Mark reminded him that’s what happened when you make bets with your older brother over who can make the most hoops. Peter harrumphed and insisted on holding his nose as he dragged the bag the entire way.

  “You’re going to end up cleaning the kitchen floor too if that bag tears,” he called after him. Jake came in the kitchen and said, “I’m done cleaning my room. Can I go over to Lexi’s house now?”

  “No, remember, we talked about it. You’re helping the neighbors watch your brother and sister for me while I go to the annual shad planking.”

  Jake groaned and swung his arms around in frustration. Lexi was a girl he liked in school. It was going to be hard to suddenly move him across the country but there was no other way. Just a little longer, he thought. Then we’ll be free of all of this.

  He went outside to the deck to get the early morning encrypted signal on his phone. The words started playing across the screen, ‘Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.’ It was the thirteenth amendment ratified in 1865 telling Mark that his worst fears were rapidly coming true. Management was planning to use him as their scapegoat.

  For a moment he couldn’t catch his breath. The panic was taking over and he wasn’t sure what to do next. The message didn’t say how long he had or what they were going to falsely accuse him of but he had a good idea. It didn’t matter anyway. Once Management decided to put someone in prison it was hard to reverse the process. He was out of time.

  The words kept spilling across the screen and he had to force himself to hold the phone steady and read them even though his head was spinning. A short series of numbers appeared after the rest of the amendment and just as quickly he decrypted them. It was instructions to download two songs, Wayward
Son and Sympathy for the Devil, from the Apple Store at exactly ten that morning. Everyone who bought the songs at the same moment would get a version with metadata tucked underneath the tune. The few hundred who bought the altered songs would never notice anything except for a slightly reduced quality in the tone.

  Things were coming apart. He couldn’t be sure what he was going to still be able to do for Robert if he had to quickly leave town. His own family was in jeopardy.

  Robert had looked drawn and tired when Mark caught the brief glimpse of him coming out of the parking deck. At least Mark knew that Management didn’t have him or the boys.

  “Jake? Jake, can you come here?” he yelled upstairs, trying to keep the rising tension out of his voice. Jake appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Yeah?” he said, still looking a little sullen over not being able to see Lexi.

  “Something’s come up and we’re hitting the road. I need you to help your Peter and Ruthie pack a few things. We’re taking a short trip,” he said. He couldn’t risk upsetting any of the kids and giving away what they were really doing to anyone watching him, including the Circle operatives.

  “What? Why? I have a test coming up. I can’t go anywhere,” said Jake.

  “No arguing, I just need you to do this. I need you to take the lead,” he said, pronouncing every word very clearly. Jake looked at his dad like he was expecting him to say something else and clear up the confusion. Mark had told his son the phrase and had him practice it ever since he turned thirteen with the express directive that it was to be used only in case of an emergency. He was to take the lead. They were now operating under protocol and there wasn’t a lot of time. Jake needed to get moving.

  His mouth fell open but Mark shook his head hard just once and pointed toward Peter’s room. “Go help him. We can talk later.”

  Jake looked frightened for just a moment and looked back toward Peter who had come out of his room. “What’s up?” asked Peter. “Why is everybody standing in the hall?” Jake straightened up and said, “Come on, we’re going on a road trip, Whiting family style. We have to get packed if we’re going to make the first surprise.”